Another Home Run? As he slugs away for the Brewers, Australia's David Nilsson ponders next season: Will he pass up free-agent riches to play in the Sydney Olympics?

There are voices in David Nilsson's head, and they sound as ifthey want to sell him a Subaru Outback. They speak with thateasy Paul Hogan lilt, like old pals standing around the barbieand throwing back a few Foster's. They are friendly andcomforting until the subject turns to the 2000 Olympics inSydney, and then the voices in Nilsson's head turn into a vicegrip on his heart.

The world is coming to Australia next year, and Nilsson, thepride of Brisbane, has a small problem: He's not sure if he willbe there to welcome it. The Milwaukee Brewers' 29-year-oldcatcher has played professional baseball in the U.S. for thepast 13 summers, but if he plays next year, in some ways it willbe his most difficult season. He will have to watch the Gamesfrom half a world away as his friends and family throw thebiggest party in the history of his homeland. Can he do it? Willhe even try? When asked if he could skip the Games, Nilssonsays, "I could do it. But I'll be honest: It would be very tough."

Nilsson insists that the folks back home are not pressuring himto put his big league career on hold and represent his countryin 2000, but he can't ignore the siren song of his native land.The name of the island continent rolls off his tongue in alittle more than a syllable--"Ah-straya," he says--and a proudsmile invariably follows. He can't lie: He comes to the U.S. forbaseball; he goes home for everything else. "I don't mean anydisrespect to America, but there's no reason for me to be here.My friends, my family, everything in my life is back inAustralia," says Nilsson, who during the off-season returns tothe Gold Coast, outside Brisbane, with his Aussie wife, Amanda,and his one-year-old son, Jacob. "I feel very comfortable in theUnited States, but there's always a part of me that knows Idon't belong here."

Before this season Nilsson made sure he wouldn't have to be herenext September. In a negotiating move that probably says moreabout his intentions than his words do, Nilsson cut an unusualdeal last December that assured him of free agency at the end ofthis season. The Brewers relinquished a one-year option toextend Nilsson's contract through the 2000 season for $5.5million. In exchange, Nilsson allowed the cash-strapped team topay his '99 salary ($4.7 million), plus a $1.5 million buyout,over a three-year period, interest-free. Now, at season's end hecan go home and stay there to compete in the Olympics or signwith another major league team, a decision he says he will makeby November. A return to Milwaukee, the only organization he hasever played for, appears unlikely.

In the meantime Nilsson is finishing his eight-year Milwaukeetenure with a flourish. Entering the season he was a lifetime.280 hitter who was prone to injury. But at week's end a haleNilsson was hitting .316. He also had 16 home runs--he hit acareer-high 20 in 1997--and 41 RBIs, and he was seventh in theNational League in slugging percentage (.609). In a differentyear, Nilsson might be a shoo-in for the National LeagueAll-Star team, whose roster will be announced July 7. But withso many of his catching rivals (the Pittsburgh Pirates' JasonKendall, the Philadelphia Phillies' Mike Lieberthal, the AtlantaBraves' Javy Lopez and the New York Mets' Mike Piazza) havingmarvelous seasons, Nilsson might not make the squad.

Nilsson appears to be reaching his offensive prime at the sametime he's reaching the free-agent market for the first time. Theresult: His love for country and his desire to play in theOlympics could be tested by a big-budget ball club's love for a6'3", 229-pound, lefthanded-hitting catcher who also hasexperience at first base, in the outfield and at DH. Could, forinstance, his deep-pocketed countryman Rupert Murdoch lureNilsson to Los Angeles to play for the Dodgers for, say, $8million a year? "I don't know what David's going to do, butnothing would surprise me," says Nilsson's agent, Alan Nero."Could you turn down $50 million to represent your country? Iknow I couldn't. But, believe me, David Nilsson could."

While most people respect his love of country, not everyone inNilsson's world is ready to cast a sentimental vote fortrue-blue patriotism over major league green. "I think it'scrazy," says David's father, Tim, who pitched for the Australiannational team in the 1960s and now helps run the family'sprinting company in Brisbane. "How could anyone choose theOlympics over the major leagues? It makes no sense. The majorleagues is the ultimate. Compared to the majors, the Olympics islike rookie ball."

Of course, young Nilsson has been toiling in the relativeobscurity of Milwaukee. At 34-40, the Brewers were the onlysixth-place team in the majors at week's end. The team hasn'tfinished above .500 since Nilsson's rookie year, in '92. "Atsome point in my career, it would be nice to see if the grass isgreener somewhere else," he says.

In Sydney, Nilsson would be the biggest baseball star on thehost team, and for once in his career he believes he would havean opportunity chance to win something. "Quite frankly, the waythe Olympics is set up, I feel Australia would have a chance towin a medal, maybe even a gold medal," he says. Participating inthe Summer Games would also give Nilsson a chance to attractmore of his countrymen to the sport. First played in Australiain 1856, baseball is still minor compared with cricket, rugby,Australian-rules football, tennis and even swimming, but Nilssonis the biggest fish in the baseball pond. Indeed, they say heowns professional baseball in Australia, and he has the receiptsto prove it. Last December, in hopes of rescuing the game,Nilsson struck a deal to create a new league that absorbed sixof the eight teams from the country's existing league. Hedeclined to reveal the price, but one publication said he paid$630,000. "I didn't do this just to say I'm an owner," he says."I think there's a chance for me to benefit financially."

Nilsson wants to lure more American players to theOctober-to-February league. (Last season there were around 20.)In the early '90s he was joined in the winter league Down Underby some Milwaukee mates, including first baseman John Jaha (nowwith the Oakland A's) and outfielder Troy O'Leary. "Dave is hugeover there," says O'Leary, who now plays for the Boston Red Sox."We went to Brisbane one day, and we couldn't even walk thestreets. It was like going to the mall with Jose Canseco orMichael Jordan." A humble Nilsson disputes O'Leary'srecollection. "I'm no superstar at home," he says. "Very fewpeople know who I am."

One move that wouldn't make him too popular over here would be adeal for next year that would allow him to abandon his bigleague team in early September, when the Olympics commence. Forhis part, Nilsson insists he wouldn't even ask. "There are 24other guys in the clubhouse, and I could never look them in theeye and tell them that come crunch time, I'm leaving," he says.

A proven hitter who could help a contender, Nilsson says thereare two simple explanations for his added production thisseason: When he arrived at spring training in February, he wascompletely healthy, and he knew what position he would beplaying. Before this season Nilsson had made six trips to thedisabled list in his Brewers career, including one to start the1995 season while he recovered from Ross River fever, a rareaffliction that he contracted from a mosquito bite in Australia.The illness, which caused fatigue and pain in his joints,limited him to only 81 games. "I probably should have taken theyear off," he says.

Nilsson bounced back in '96. In 123 games, including 40 as adesignated hitter, he put up career highs in average (.331) andRBIs (84) and batted an American League-best .359 againstrighthanded pitchers. After the '97 season, though, Milwaukeeswitched to the National League, a move that affected Nilssonmore than any other Brewer. No longer could Milwaukee managerPhil Garner try to keep him off the DL by putting him at DH.

Last year Nilsson had arthroscopic surgery on his right kneeduring spring training. When he returned in May, he caught inonly six games, splitting time between first base and leftfieldwhile hitting .269 with 12 homers and 56 RBIs. Coming into the'99 season, the catching-thin Brewers decided to stick himbehind the plate and take their chances. Nilsson, who hadn'tcaught full time since '95, welcomed the move because, he says,"it was just nice to know what position I was playing for achange."

Always a streaky hitter, Nilsson this season settled into agroove early and stayed there. No longer is he content to justslap a single up the middle when his team needs extra bases. "Ithink he is finally realizing what he is capable of doing," saysBrewers hitting coach Jim Lefebvre. "He's a bright guy who goesup to the plate with a plan. He's become a great situationalhitter." Under the direction of Lefebvre, who joined theMilwaukee staff last August, Nilsson began to pull nearly everypitch in batting practice, a habit that helped him become a moreinstinctive power hitter. "Normally, the hitting coach tells youthe exact opposite--go the other way, use the whole field--butJim wanted me to get used to pulling everything," says Nilsson.

As for Nilsson's defense, Garner says "the best part of his gameis his offense." The manager does rate Nilsson "a smart catcherwho knows how to work with a pitching staff." Moreover, thoughat week's end Nilsson had thrown out just 17.1% of runnersattempting to steal this season (fifth worst in the league),Garner says his pitchers are as responsible for the spottyresults as the catcher. The ever-intense Garner says he is fondof his laid-back backstop, even if Nilsson is not likely tosteal his manager's nickname, Scrap Iron.

"Nillie's a negotiator, not a fighter," says Garner. "He's acerebral guy, very intelligent, with great instincts. He doesn'trelish contact, but there's nothing wrong with that. Yogi Berradidn't like contact. He always thought it was smarter to stepout of the way and tag you as you were running by. Nothing wrongwith that."

Nilsson says his baseball upbringing was not too far removedfrom that of his American counterparts. Tim Nilsson raised hisfour sons to play the game. David got his first bat and glovefor Christmas when he was four, played tee-ball and LittleLeague, and watched games on TV whenever he could. "Of course,we would only get the World Series, and it would be at, like,three in the morning," he says. "My brothers and I played allsports, but baseball just grabbed us." Two of Nilsson's threeolder brothers, Bob and Gary, pitched professionally in theU.S., but never made it out of the minor leagues. David was justthe third player from his country to make the big leagues,following Joe Quinn (who played from 1894 to 1901) and CraigShipley, a utilityman who made his debut in 1986 and retiredbefore this season.

"When I signed my first contract I was 17 years old, and I feltlike I was moving to a different planet," says Nilsson, whobegan his career with the Helena (Mont.) Brewers of the PioneerLeague. "The possibility of actually making it to the majorleagues was almost inconceivable to me."

Now he is thinking about walking away from the major leagues, apossibility that's almost inconceivable to everyone else.